Deathly Hallows Remix
by lipstickcrisis
Summary: A very different Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Harry/Luna, Draco/Ginny, Neville/Pansy, Ron/Cho, and George/Hermione in future chapters--as well as some other short-lived romances. Maybe some femslash or slash.
1. Back to the Burrow

_"I presume, Mr. Potter, that you are aware of the consequences?"_

_"Yes, professor."_

_"And are you prepared?"_

_"Not really, actually. No."_

_Severus Snape paced the room, a frown on his face. He looked up at Harry for a moment, then returned to staring at the floor and frowning._

_"This is no joke, Potter," Snape snarled.  
"I know that," Harry spat back, furious. His dark hair was far messier than usual and his glasses were broken. _

_Snape leaned forward, brushing his fingers across the boy's bare back. "Do you want anything?" he whispered, "For these?" He touched the scars with uncharacteristic carefulness._

_"I'm fine," Harry choked, flinching as a nail just barely scratched his skin. Snape quickly withdrew his hand. "I just... you can't be serious?" _

_Snape turned away from him, his hair falling into his eyes. "I thought," he began, "we had already established that this is not a joke?" He withdrew his wand with a startling speed, and pointed it at Harry. "It's for your own good, Potter!" his voice was raising, "And if you can't keep your mouth shut, I will be forced to obliviate you."_

_"Killing Professor Dumbledor? You expect me to believe that's for my own good?" Harry yelled, "I always knew you were an arse, professor," he uttered every syllabol with such an expression of contempt that it surprised even Snape, "but to kill the only man I've ever trusted and expect me to believe it was for my own good!? You're mad! Bloody mad!"_

_Harry winced. He had moved too much, and his fresh scars had started to reopen. "Argh!"_

_"Pathetic," Snape said, just loud enough for Harry to hear. "Oblivia--!"_

Harry woke up with a start, and upon opening his eyes he found that he had fallen onto the floor. He opened his eyes to see that he was now laying on a rolled up Chudley Cannon's poster and promptly blamed the pain in his back on it.

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked, propping himself up on his elbows. His red hair stood out like fire as sunlight streamed through the window.

Harry pushed against the wall to upright himself. "Fine," he said.

It had been another nightmare, he remembered. It hadn't been about Voldemort this time, though, but rather about Snape--much to Harry's surprise. Snape. What had he been saying? It was all quite foggy now, and Harry couldn't remember much of the dream at all. And yet, it had seemed so real. Not that he would tell Ron, who looked quite horrified enough as it was. He would have been worried to hear to that Harry had had another nightmare (though it was likely he'd guessed already), but to know that Harry had dreamed about Snape? It was best left unsaid, Harry thought.

"If you say so," Ron said, "guess we'd better get dressed then. I imagine Mum's pretty worried by now after hearing that." He raised an eyebrow and got out of bed, grabbing a shirt that was a bit too small for him and pulling it over his head. Harry followed suit and got dressed quickly.

The two boys headed downstairs slowly, still a bit groggy from just waking up. Hermione and Ginny were already in the kitchen. Ginny looked up at them for a moment, but returned to her breakfast without a second glance. Things between her and Harry had been a bit tense since Dumbledore's funeral, to say the least. While they had been relaxing by the edge of the lake, Harry had told her he couldn't afford to be with her anymore, for fear that he might put her in danger. He had thought he'd done a pretty good job with it all, felt a bit like Spider Man really, at the time. During the summer at the Burrow, however, he had quickly realized that his act hadn't fooled either of them.

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione had said, "you did the right thing, you know you did. It wouldn't have worked out." And Ron had agreed a bit too quickly.

How ironic coming from them, Harry thought. Ron and Hermione, the constantly bickering duo. Ron and Hermione, who never quite seemed to work out together. There was truth to the opposites attract theory, but it certainly didn't lie in the angry combination of Ron and Hermione.

He felt sorry for them that it hadn't worked out, but he couldn't help being a bit bitter about hearing romance advice from the two of them after that--even if everything they said was suspiciously on target.

Ron sat down across from Hermione with an awkward smile. Harry sat next to Ron. "So, um, how's breakfast?" He asked stupidly.

Hermione smiled and held up a battered old book with the words "Charms for Seventh Years" engraved in a tawdry golden color on the cover. "It's interesting, but there isn't much anything new," she said sadly.

"Breakfast," Ron said, rolling his eyes, "he asked how breakfast was, not your book." Harry laughed, and shook his head. "It was a stupid question," he said in Hermione's defense, "breakfast is always good at your house."

The four ate in silence and Crookshanks pranced on the table haughtily. Ron looked thoroughly annoyed at the ginger cat, but seemed to think better of saying anything in that regard as he kept the silence. Ginny let her fork down with a soft "clink" and headed toward the stairs without even a "see you later."

"Ginny!" Harry called, suddenly. He immediately regretted it. "I... er... could you wait up, for a minute?" he asked carefully. She turned around, frowing slightly. "Sure," she said from the stairs, "meet me in my room."

Ron glared at her, then at Harry as she disappeared up to the second floor. "Can't you meet her in a public place?" he asked. Hermione kicked him under the table.

"Oh, honestly, Ron!" she said, annoyed, "It isn't as though... isn't as though they're going to..." Her cheeks quickly turned a bright shade of red.

"Shag?"

Fred and George Weasley entered the kitchen with devious smiles on their faces. George took Ginny's spot, leaning in close to Hermione.

"Are you sure about that?" he whispered, "I wouldn't put it past old Ginny to put the moves on Harry."

Hermione got up so abruptly that her chair fell out from underneath her. She stormed off, indignantly muttering incomprehensible things. Harry got the feeling he would not be talking to Ginny any time soon, seeing as the only place Hermione could have gone was the room she was staying in--which just so happened to be Ginny's room.


	2. The Letter

Ginny looked out the window longingly as Fred and George whizzed by on their broomsticks. She would kill to be playing Quidditch right now--or, honestly, to be doing anything other than waiting for the impending doom that would soon arrive in the shape of none other but her former idol.

She winced as the sound of loud stomping echoed from the stairway. Harry hadn't seemed angry when she had last spoken to him, and even when he was angry, he was not the type to stomp. She supposed, then, that it should have been no suprise to her that the person who entered her room was not Harry.

"You don't mind if I stay here a while, do you?" Hermione asked. Her face was quite red and she looked a bit out of sorts.

Ginny shook her head, turning away from the window to face Hermione. "No, it's fine. I don't mind," she said, but she was pretty sure Harry would. "Is everything all right?"

Hermione sat on the bed, frowning. She looked up and opened her mouth slightly, as though she wanted to say something.

"Ron didn't say anything weird to you, did he?" Ginny prompted, already becoming annoyed with her older brother.

"No," Hermione said, "no... he didn't." She seemed like she had more to say, but whatever else there was to be said was quickly silenced by the sound of pounding on the window. Hermione and Ginny jumped, surprised.

Fred and George peered into the window with huge grins.

"Oy!" Fred said, "Open up, will you?" The sound of his voice was significantly muffled through the glass, but it was still just barely understandable. Ginny opened the window, rolling her eyes.

"I thought you were getting breakfast!" Hermione said, frowning, "And how on earth did you get outside and on your brooms so quickly?"

Fred and George shrugged. "Curious, aren't you?" George teased.

Fred laughed loudly, and dropped a rolled-up piece of parchment through the window. "This from anyone you know?" He asked.

Ginny picked up the parchment, unrolling it with deep suspicion. There was no name.

**"They're coming tonight. Be careful."**

The terse message was spilled across the parchment in sloppy cursive. It seemed to have been written in quite a hurry.

"Did you write this?"

Ginny looked up at the twins, making her best attempt to glare. It had to be a joke. Had to be...

The smiles fell off of Fred and George's faces promplty. They looked troubled. "We found it in the yard. An owl prob'ly dropped it," George said, hesitantly.

A long silence followed. Hermione looked worried.

"What's it say?" Fred finally asked. He flung his hand through the window, trying to grab for the letter. "Is it a love letter?" He joked, but he didn't look amused.

Instead of handing it to them, however, Ginny handed it to Hermione. Best to let her see it first, she figured.

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion, probably unsure as to why she had been given the letter. She looked down at the letter and pursed her lips.

"We've got to tell your parents," she said, "No, the Order. We've got to tell the Order, Ginny. This could be serious."

The twins exchanged worried glances, and Ginny became painfully aware that the letter was clearly no joke. But what could it mean? And most important: who would have sent it?

***

Arthur and Molly Weasley paced the living room anxiously. Harry kept trying to meet Ginny's gaze, but she tried with utmost care to avoid his. It was awkward enough that they had not had the chance to talk, like Harry had wanted to, but what good would eye contact do? Deliberate eye contact was a thing of lovers, which she and Harry were no longer. And, perhaps, never had been at all--unless empty vows and teenage lust counted for love.

Fleur and Tonks were the first to arrive, flooing in from the fireplace. Ginny was surprised to see them together: her favorite woman and least favorite woman. And where were Bill and Lupin?

"Hullo, Ginny!" Tonks said brightly, upon seeing her.

"Hello Tonks," Ginny said, smiling. Fleur sneered. "And hello, Phlem," Ginny continued, under her breath. Tonks frowned a little, apparently having heard Ginny's greeting to Fleur.

The rest of the Order apparated to the Burrow. Sirius and Snape were--for obvious reasons-- absent. One was dead, and the other had turned out to be a traitor. Ginny wasn't surprised about the latter.

Harry seemed quite distressed by the absenses. Though, whom he was grieving the loss of, Ginny did not know. Anyone else would have immediately said "Sirius," but Snape's betrayal had seemed to take a surprisingly emotional toll on Harry. She couldn't help wondering, sometimes, if Harry had been in love with him. She had voiced this thought to Hermione once, but Hermione had laughed it off without even a second thought.

"I'm assuming you are all aware of why we called you here?" Arthur Weasley began. "We have received a letter, as you know, possibly informing us of an attack tonight. It is possible that the letter is a false alarm, but after all that's happened, we can't afford to take warnings for jokes."

A strong wind sounded outside, and Ginny cringed as a sickening pale green light flooded the windows.

"Wasn't a joke then, I guess," Harry said darkly.

A/N: I hope this isn't too fast-paced. I feel like I'm rushing things. I've never written anything nearly as long as this is going to be, though, so I'm not really sure if I'm doing things properly. There's no Snarry in this, just a bit of paranoid!Ginny haha. I've decided to do different chapters in different perspectives. Let me know if it doesn't seem to be working out, please.


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